


Someday, it'll be okay

by Nehesemhotep



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is indifferent to gender identity, Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Protective Castiel, Transphobia, completely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-04 15:12:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehesemhotep/pseuds/Nehesemhotep
Summary: The reader is a trans man. Castiel is the kind stranger who befriended him.  These will be short, mainly fluffy chapters. Maybe some smut. I dunno yet.





	1. Back again, my friend

You step out of the shower, avoiding looking in the mirror as you begin to dry off. You are glad to be out of your work clothes, trying to avoid pangs of shame and the thought that a minimum wage job is all you’ll ever be good for. As long you get top surgery, you’ll be okay, you say to yourself. Even a couple hundred dollars a month, eventually you’ll be okay. Someday it won’t be so hard. You sigh. 

You turn and look in the mirror, pressing your hands against your breasts so all you see is your thick torso and a slight pooch, not great but not too bad compared to most guys. But then you drop your hands and you cringe. You put on your binder and boxers, your shorts and t-shirt, and feel a little better, attempting a smile in the mirror. It wobbles a little. 

You jump at the sound of a knock on your door. Cautiously you make your way to the front and silently look outside. A decade of vigilance can’t be unlearned so easily, even though you’ve got some muscle now. 

You grin wide, seeing Castiel on the other side, feeling a little nervous at the same time. You open the door, 

“Hey, Cas!” He breaks into a small smile, a little bashful, and you can feel your nerves ease a bit. Cas happened upon you a few months ago holding back tears at a local library. You were so embarrassed that you were so weak, that it wasn’t a surprise no one believed you were a man. You were so weak, and so pathetic. You knew it wasn’t logical-but you were so so tired that day. It had been a bad week after a bad month and you were just, so tired. 

Castiel had patted you on the back awkwardly and offered you a hug which you felt too anxious to accept. He asked to give you his phone number, that you could text him if you wanted, if you needed help; when you looked at your phone later you realized he probably saw your call log, which was right there on the screen, with multiple aborted calls to a suicide hotline. 

You texted him a few times after that, and he always answered. He came into town a couple more times, too. Sometimes you thought about what it would be like to kiss him, and how careful and kind he would be when it came to sex. 

But then you remembered that he was just as likely to call you names, beat you down. Lots of people seemed nice until you didn’t fit in the right box, they were nice right up until they weren’t. 

But you wanted to tell him. 

Because he’s standing here a little fidgety and adorable and flicking his blue eyes over your face. “Good morning, y/n.” He stands up a little straighter, “Have you eaten? Or, coffee, maybe?” 

You clear your throat, “That sounds great, let me grab some shoes.” You feel a leap in your stomach at how deep your voice sounds now, and your face brightens. Cas nods, and leans against the banister as you duck back into the house. You feel your lips quirk up. Cas has never crossed any boundary without permission, and he asks a lot of questions. Maybe it would have been annoying to some, but it was a relief to you. It felt safe. 

You tie the laces on your Converses and go outside, Castiel waiting patiently, watching the morning neighborhood traffic. Together you walk down the sidewalk, sometimes in companionable silence, sometimes making small talk. Over coffee and toast, you learn Castiel will be in town the next couple of days, and that he’s doing research for a friend of his in Kansas. You ask on what and he waves his hand and murmurs something about genealogy. 

Your gaze wanders occasionally around the cafe, as you try not to worry. Your town was largely filled with farmers and factory workers, it was conservative and traditional. Before you passed as male, you got a lot of nasty looks. Even after you began passing, you had to be careful what you wore, and how you talked. Sometimes you wonder if there will ever be a moment when you’re not worrying about a stranger hating you for who you are or who you choose to be with. 

Catching a judgmental eye, you glance away quickly, feeling both a surge of anxiety but also protectiveness. You fight back a growl at the thought of anyone trying to hurt Cas while you’re around. You become hyper aware of the (relatively) new strength in your arms and shoulders, the way your body runs hotter, and your hands curl into fists.

“Y/N?” Cas is looking at you with concern, head tilted. You stretch your hands on your thighs and swallow. You ask if he would like to watch a movie later, and his face lights up. You chuckle and take another drink of your coffee.


	2. Author's Note

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short it can hardly be called a chapter, and I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted. I'm not giving up on this story. My depression's been hitting me hard, and I lost my job after I had a panic attack at work. The next chapter will be up soon and have more substance, I promise.

        You look over at Castiel, who is frowning at the television. You decided to put on Twister, for some low-key action and humor. Cas seems to enjoy the music and has made several comments. You pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, and sigh softly, trying to subtly examine the angles of his face and the wrinkles around his eyes.

        Cas’ brow furrows, “They are headed towards a great chance of dying, or at the least being hurt, and they are so happy about it.” His brow clears and he huffs out a smile. It’s beautiful. Castiel turns to you, interrupting your musings with a strangely somber look on his face, “How can they not be afraid?" His eyes are intense and you feel tears prick at your eyes without knowing why.

        Then Cas is turning back to the movie with a soft chuckle, “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

        You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything.

        His face looks sad in the light of the television, and you place a hand on his shoulder softly. He doesn’t look at you but his body relaxes back into the touch, and before you can overthink it you move your hand across his back to wrap your arm around him, wanting to soothe the sadness off his face. You think you hear him sigh softly, and you sit like that for the rest of the film.

        Cas calls a couple of times the next day while you are at work, and you wish that you could call him back, but your boss keeps eyeing you like she knows. You keep cleaning the dishes, distractedly, squeezing the sprayer a little too hard and jumping away from the water hitting your face, nearly slipping on the wet floor. “Perfect,” you mumble. Later that afternoon a customer yells at you for ringing her food out wrong, and as you leave that day, holding the door open for a woman and her child, you hear a “Thank you sir-I mean, er...sorry.”

        And your shoulders slump.

        You sit in your car and fold your hands over the wheel, taking a couple of shaky breaths. You scroll through your phone and see that Castiel sent you a text,

      **I’m leaving the library for the day, are you busy?** It was followed by a smiley face emoji, and you choke out a sob.

    _Did he know? Does he feel sorry for me? I obviously don’t pass and never will. I’ll never grow up the way I was supposed to. I should never have been born._

        You fight the urge to scratch your arms as ugly tears streak down your face. _You’re a fricken mess, y/n. A waste of space._ A knock on the window startles your sobs into submission. Your stomach drops as you see Cas just outside your car. Slowly, wiping your eyes, you open the door,

        “Hey.”

        “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

        Castiel is looking at you like you matter, and you can’t speak. You just shake your head. He holds out his arms, and this time you lean into him. He holds you carefully but surely. He’s so warm, and you don’t want him to let go.


End file.
